


Fall Into You

by Periwinkle39



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autumn, F/M, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periwinkle39/pseuds/Periwinkle39
Summary: Collection of autumn-themed drabbles, loosely connected.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 127
Kudos: 130
Collections: Jonsa Autumn Drabbles 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 Theme: Coffee Shop

Jon Snow was kneeling behind the counter putting supplies away when he heard it—the slam of the door and the quick clack of footsteps on the tile floor. By the time he stood up, the door to bathroom slammed shut. It was only fifteen minutes before midnight and the place was empty. 

It sounded like only one person, and he had a thought about who it might be. After they hadn’t come out for five minutes, he made his way to the back hallway, where the bathroom was, and knocked on the door. “Hello?”

“Can I help you?” came the voice from inside, a soft girly one, muffled but familiar. She sounded peeved. 

“Uh, can I help _you_?” he offered.

“No.”

He scratched his head. “We close in ten minutes.”

“It’s OK. I know the owner.”

He chuckled into a sigh. “Do you need help?”

“Yes.”

“Should I come in?”

“If you want to.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of that. Slowly, he turned the knob. The first thing he saw—as always—was the garish tiling, bright orange like the hair of the girl who has chosen it. Ygrette. She was long gone, but the ugly bathroom she left behind was still here.

He turned and got a look at its current occupant, whose hair also matched the walls. She was sitting on top of the toilet, legs spread, holding a beer and looking like she was 100 percent done with the world and everyone in it. Wrung out and unfinished. Like he felt basically all the time, but it was unusual for _her_. 

She was still pretty, though. 

Sansa Stark was never not pretty. 

“What are you doing in my bathroom, Sansa?”

“This color means there’s good autumnal energy in here.”

“OK . . . how can I help?” he asked.

“What?”

“You said you needed help.”

“Oh. I meant just in general. Life, you know. I didn’t mean specifically right now.” She took a sip of her beer. "I broke up with my asshole boyfriend last week, so I’m celebrating.”

“Finally.”

“I know, right?” 

“So you were out by yourself?”

“I left Arya at the bar.” She took another drink and closed her eyes like it was the most satisfying thing she had ever done. The thought of Sansa Stark being satisfied took his train of thought in a dangerous direction, so he focused on the bottle in her hand.

“You can’t have that here.”

“Why?”

“You know I don’t have a liquor license.”

“Which is a shame.” She proceeded to finish off what was left and dropped the bottle into the metal trash can next to the toilet with a loud bang. “I keep telling you you’d make a killing if you served wine.”

“I like it the way it is. It’s a _coffee_ shop.”

“Suit yourself.” She jumped off the toilet and in doing so almost lost her footing and fell into him.

“Are you going to be OK going home?” he asked.

“You need to stop asking me existential questions.”

He couldn’t help but smile, and she narrowed her eyes turned her head as if to inspect his expression. Then she looked down and seemed to realize for the first time, she was leaning against him and he was holding her forearms. 

He took a step back to give her space. “Sorry. How about some coffee? On the house.”

“Yes, that would probably be a good idea. But do you, um . . . ”

She smiled that smile that asked him to read her mind. He couldn’t pinpoint when he’d realized that was a thing he could do.

“Yes, Sansa, I have pumpkin spice.”

With a giddy grin, she finally stepped out into the hall. “You’re right. Never change this place.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 Theme: Tradition

“Hey, wake up,” Jon said, shaking her shoulder gently. “We’re here.”

Sansa took a deep breath before opening her eyes, the cold air serving to wake her up. It felt about 20 degrees colder now than it had when they’d gotten into his beat-up SUV that Sansa was sure was older than she was. Looking at her watch, she saw that they’d driven about two hours, most of which she’d apparently slept through.

“Where are we?” 

“You’ll see. Let’s go.”

They got out and Sansa pulled her jacket tighter around her. She recognized the old ruins from the trips her parents would drag her and her siblings on during the summers when they were kids. In her memories, though, the trees were full and green. Now, they were a beautiful palette of deep orange, dark red and golden yellow.

“Oh, wow,” she said looking around slowly over the full panorama, her eyes eventually landing back on Jon, who apparently had just been watching her. She smiled.

“You were talking about autumnal energy last week. I thought this would be a better place to channel it than the coffee shop’s bathroom.”

Sansa chuckled and looked away. “Don’t sell that tile color short.”

She was still somewhat embarrassed about her drunken antics—not that Jon would ever judge her. Arya had dared her to do something impulsive and she’d immediately marched over the four blocks from the bar to Jon’s coffee shop to kiss him. Naturally, she chickened out when she got there and ran to the bathroom instead. She was glad she hadn’t gone through with it, in the end, because Jon deserved better than a drunken rebound kiss. He had brought her to this postcard of a place. He was always doing things that surprised her but also didn’t. When she kissed him, if she ever did, she didn’t want it to be a random impulse. She wanted them both to mean it. 

“Are you coming?”

His voice a few yards ahead of her caught her by surprise. 

“There’s a cool spot about a mile in.”

She rubbed her arms as she followed him.

“Cold?”

“I’ll be OK. I just dressed to look nice, not for hiking.” He looked away, and Sansa thought he might have blushed. _Yes, Jon_ , she wanted to say. _I wanted to look nice for you._

“It’ll be worth it,” he said.

They walked quietly for about twenty minutes until they came to a clearing in the middle of which there was a huge weirwood tree. Sansa stopped to take it in, then noticed Jon sitting down at the base of the trunk.

“What are you doing?” she asked coming to sit down next to him.

“My mom and I used to come here every fall,” he said. He laid down so that he was looking up into the sky through the tree’s thick foliage. Sansa did the same. Filtered through the huge canopy of leaves, the sunlight took on a twilight quality even though it was midday. “Make a wish.”

“What?”

“We’re supposed to make a wish and if a leaf falls while we’re here, it’ll come true—I think?” He started laughing. “I can’t remember what she used to say that would make the wish come true. I only remember that it didn’t make any sense.”

“I didn’t know your mom was—“

“A hippy?”

Sansa giggled. “No, I was going to say so spiritual.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if spiritual was the word for it,” he said quietly. “But she was . . . something."

Sansa lifted her hand and found his forearm, then slid her palm into his, interlacing their fingers. He didn’t look at her but Sansa saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath.

“I haven’t been here since she died.”

Finally he turned to look at her, squeezing her hand.

She took his sad but hopeful eyes in for a long moment, then looked back up to the tree. “You should definitely restart this tradition.”

“It wasn’t really a tradition, just something we did.”

“That’s what a tradition is, Jon,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone that made him laugh.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’m going to plan on coming with you next fall so you remember to do it.”

“OK.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 Theme: Natural

“Who is that girl over there?” 

Jon glanced up from the machine currently brewing the two espresso shots for Sansa’s honey lavender latte. (She’d had two pumpkin spice lattes already that day, one when she came into Jon’s coffee shop in the morning, and the other, when she came in during her lunch break. The evening, a Friday evening too, called for a change.) He looked in the direction Sansa was looking, while leaning on the counter. In the corner table near the window, where a pair of teenagers was sitting talking excitedly. He smirked as he noticed Sansa’s skeptical expression.

“Lyanna Mormont.”

“What’s she doing with Rickon?”

“They’re on a date,” he said.

“What? Since when is my little brother dating?”

“This is the third time they’ve been here this month so . . . at least that long.”

“How do you know more about Rickon’s love life than I do?” 

Jon shrugged. “I give the people their coffee. The people give me their stories.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes with a grin. “Really?”

He chuckled, looking away. “Nah. I think that’s bartenders. They’ve been coming since the start of the school year and a few weeks ago he asked if he could reserve the table so they could, I quote, ‘take things up a notch.’”

She giggled in response. “Don’t tell me Rickon is smooth with girls.”

“Well, he brought the flowers that are on the table right now, so in comparison with Robb and me at his age, I would say very much yes.”

Sansa looked over her shoulder again. “Rough and tumble Rickon is dating. You remember how he seemed like he was feral until he was ten.” She turned back around when he set the latte in front of her, then she took a sip.

“All you Starks have a little wildness in you.” 

“Even me?”

Sansa looked up and Jon smiled at the touch of foam on her nose. He always gave her extra. He leaned over and swiped it off with his forefinger. “Even you.” She held his stare for a long moment and Jon thought of the drive they’d taken a few days ago. The weirwood tree. Helping pull the leaves out of her hair after they’d stood up again. Things had evolved between them since. It was different, but it still felt natural. 

Eventually, her cheeks went pink and she looked down to take another sip. Jon thought of himself as a teenager, all awkwardness and anger. Back then, he wouldn’t have expected to be here—running his late mother’s shop—but that felt natural too. Having found a sense of direction in it, everything else now made sense. He’d always been a little bit in love with Sansa, but it was only in the last few years that real friendship had blossomed between them. At first, all the Starks came every day to support him, helping the shop stay afloat as he found his bearings while dealing with his grief. Eventually, he figured things out and the place was thriving again. But Sansa kept coming everyday. 

“Do you wish you could go back to high school?” she asked.

“No. Why, do you?”

Sansa sighed. “Not exactly. I just remember how full of possibility everything seemed back then.”

He frowned. “It doesn’t feel that way now?”

She looked up at him again. Again, she had foam on her nose. Again, he swiped it off with a smile.

“It does, actually.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 Theme: Spicy and Sweetness

“So whose birthdays are we celebrating again—other than Robb’s?”

Sansa smiled at her brother’s new girl, Jeyne Westerling, as the two helped Catelyn set the dining room table at the Stark house. Jeyne had only been around for two months, but Sansa could see that they were in it for the long haul. The fact that she’d been invited to the annual Stark fall birthday bash was a clear sign of that.

“Arya and Bran are the other October babies,” Catelyn replied. “Bran’s is in November, so we lump him. As kids, they didn’t love having to share the party but I always made each their own cake on their actual birthday, so that helped.” Catelyn paused to look around and seemed satisfied with the set up. “You girls seem to have this in hand so I’m going to check on the roast.”

As Catelyn walked back toward the kitchen, Robb came in with a couple of bottles of wine that he set on the table.

“That’s so funny that everyone’s birthday is so close,” Jeyne said. “The immature me, of course, wants to know what kept happening nine months earlier.”

“February in the North,” Robb said with a shrug. “What else is there to do when it’s so cold but fuck.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re clearly past trying to impress Jeyne.”

Laughing, Jeyne replied. “That shipped sailed early on, I’m afraid. When’s _your_ birthday, Sansa?”

“April.” 

“Aw, did you feel left out as a kid?”

“No, at least not when we were young. I got a celebration all to myself when everyone else had to share, but I do find it funny now. I love this time of year. It’s my favorite season, but October birthdays are wasted on my siblings.”

Arya and Rickon came into the dining room, with Bran rolling in on his wheelchair behind them.

“Let Stark-toberfest begin!” Arya exclaimed as she found a place to sit down.

“I thought Jon was coming,” Rickon said, sitting next to Arya.

“Jon is here,” Ned proclaimed coming into the room with Jon following behind him and carrying a large box. Catelyn, who had just come back from the kitchen, immediately took it from him with profuse thanks.

Sansa watched him as Robb took his coat and they shared a laugh over something. She’d seen Jon everyday this week and yet, getting to again always felt like a special treat. There had been a shift between them recently—subtle but unmistakable, like when you wake up one day in September and realize that the leaves have started to turn. Their branches are still full but trees have taken on different shades. The light and air around them is different, and suddenly, everything is beautiful. Sansa wondered if either them would acknowledge it any time soon. He wasn’t in a hurry, it seemed, and she wasn’t either.

Once all the food had been brought out, the family and their two guests took their seats, Bran found less room to pull up to the table with the two extra chairs that had been brought in. Sansa _helpfully thank you very much_ pulled the chair next to her closer to her so Bran had room to slide in on the other side. She also one hundred percent ignored Arya’s knowing smirk from across the table when Sansa offered the seat she’d pulled nearer to her own to Jon.

When he sat down, she narrowed her eyes in question and he immediately answered, “I have a new baker supplying pastries at the shop and she offered me a discount on a special occasion cake, so I told your mom I’d bring one tonight.”

Sansa smiled thinking how thoughtful he was, how easily he could figure out what she was thinking, how good he looked in the dark red sweater he was wearing, how much she wanted to touch his forearms, resting on his lap under the table, because he’d pushed the sleeves up to his elbows.

“I got you something too,” he whispered, barely having to lean for her to feel his voice for how close they were sitting.

“What is it?”

“Nothing big. Just a cupcake,” he said, looking away, as if embarrassed. “When I was picking up the cake I saw the flavor and I thought of you. It's in my car.”

“Let me guess, pumpkin?”

He chuckled. She could feel that too. “No. Chai.”

“How did that make you think of me?”

“Sweet and spicy.”

“You think I’m spicy.”

He winked. “I see potential.”

She giggled, blushing, and pushed her shoulder into his, and just like that her hand was on his forearm, and just like that their fingers were interlaced under the table. Funny how that kept happening. Sansa was pretty sure nobody could see, but she was also pretty sure they all knew.

Cat brought out the roast, then. And Ned offered a toast. And Sansa thought this particular autumn was maybe the best one yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my extended family, there are maybe a dozen October birthdays.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 Theme: Firelight

Because the company was good, the dinner was long. Cake was served and wine was drunk. And, as was the family’s tradition, Ned lit a fire in the pit he’d built at the back of the Stark property. There was a chill in the air so Sansa wrapped herself into a big sweater that Jon remembered from her knitting phase a few years ago. She had measured all of her family and friends, him included, promising warm cardigans for everyone. She had only managed to finish this one, however, declaring that sewing and embroidery (which she was actually good at) were both much easier and didn’t take nearly as long. 

The sweater was oversized, and Jon was pretty sure Arya had pointed out once that one sleeve was longer than the other, but she looked adorable bunching it around herself.

It didn’t take much to make her look adorable, and Jon was still buzzing from the feel of her right up against him all through dinner, her hand in his. Once it became clear that something between them could happen— _would_ happen—he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t rush it. She had just ended a relationship, after all, but every time he saw her lately the reasons for waiting made less and less sense. Now, as he watched the firelight dance on Sansa’s skin, it made no sense at all.

Eventually, as it got later and colder, everyone peeled off and went back inside. When Robb and Jeyne said their goodbyes and headed home, Jon realized he and Sansa were alone. They’d sat next to each other again in front of the fire, but because everyone had their own lawn chair, she was a few feet away from him. He watched her as she watched the fire and smiled at the way she blushed when she caught him staring.

“It’s almost midnight—you’re not opening tomorrow, are you?” she asked, breaking the stillness.

“Tormund’s coming in. He’s popular with the Monday morning crowd. What about you?”

“I finished a big project last week, so I got a long weekend,” she replied with a shrug.

“So you’re up for a late night?”

She narrowed her sleepy eyes at him. “You say that like the night’s just beginning.”

Her voice walked a line of hesitancy and invitation. It was always a little bit like this with them. Both enjoying the moment and eager for more but also not wanting to break the spell, lingering on the held breath before the exhale.

He exhaled, stood up and held out his hand. “Come have your cupcake.”

She laughed, taking it and standing up. “Oh! I can’t believe forgot about that. Can we bring it back here to eat, though? This feels like the last not too cold to hang out outside night we’re going to have.”

“Sure. I'll get it, then. Wait here.”

He walked across the yard, around the house to his car. After grabbing the small white box on the seat, he came back, slowing down as he approached, again enjoying watching her and the firelight.

He could keep just watching from afar, keep the scene perfect like it was now. But he wouldn’t.

As he stepped closer, Sansa turned and stood up again. She smiled as he held up the box, took it and set it down on her chair.

“Before we get to that,” she said, then put her arms around his neck and smiled that smile that asked him to read her mind.

He loved being able to do that. He kissed her. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 Theme: Clothing

Sansa had the covers over her head when she woke up but could hear him walking around the room cursing, which made her smile.

She didn’t remember what time they ended up heading to Jon’s place. Certainly, she didn’t know what time it was now, but she had a vague recollection of him reluctantly telling her at some point that he needed _some_ sleep because even though he didn’t need to open at 6 a.m., he needed to be there eventually, preferably no later than 9 a.m., when the college student rush really started. She’d have complained but she knew how much the success of the shop—his mother’s dream and now legacy—meant to him.

Slowly, she pulled the comforter down so she could watch him. He was freshly showered and in some very flattering boxer-briefs picking up piles of clothing from the floor. Bending over, he happened to look in her direction and did a double-take on noticing that she was awake.

He smiled. Boy, did she love that smile. She’d go back to tell her younger self to make different choices—to follow her instincts about that smile much, much sooner, instead of ignore them for years—but she didn’t want to begrudge her younger self the things that girl had wanted and the experiences she needed to go through.

“Good morning,” he said, in a husky voice that she wanted to hear first thing in the morning every morning.

“Good morning,” she said, pulling the comforter tighter around herself, as he sat down on the edge of the bed and pushed her hair out of her face. “What are you doing?”

He sighed, looking at the mess on the floor. “Absolutely no regrets about last night, but having pushed all the freshly laundered and folded clothing that I'd left on the bed to the floor when we got here is making for a less than smooth morning.”

Sansa giggled. “I can guarantee that if you serve coffee exactly as you are right now will result in absolutely no complaints and may actually increase your clientele.”

It was Jon’s turn to laugh. “I’ll just change the name to Magic Mike Coffee. Health codes be dammed.”

“This is what I’m saying! I would keep coming.”

He leaned over her, but instead of kissing her, his head tilted and his lips found her neck instead. “So just like last night.”

She giggled again, wrapping her arms around him to pull him down on her. He did kiss her then, deeply and slowly. When he pulled away, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Feel free to stay like this all day, yourself.”

“My parents would have something to say about me getting arrested for indecent exposure.”

Sansa wasn’t sure if it was the mention of his parents or something else, but he pulled away and sat up, so she sat up too. She watched him as he took a deep breath.

“So I know you just got out of a long relationship—“

“Stop.”

He turned to her, surprised at her interruption.

She took her own deep breath. “That had been over long before it actually ended. Honestly, I was just following a pattern I thought I was supposed to follow.” She took his hand. “This feels right in a way nothing else has, and if you’re worried about my parents, just keep showing up to their house with cake.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. He leaned over to kiss her one more time and then stood up. “I guess I should get dressed.”

“Well, I don’t know about _should_ but OK.”

He chuckled as he started picking up his clothes from the floor again. Sansa got out of bed, too. She found the sweater he had been wearing last night and slipped into it. It smelled like smoke from the fire and coffee and autumn.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 - Trick or Treat - Choose your own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late, but hopefully not a dollar short. This final drabble is an epilogue of sorts. Thanks to everyone who read these and commented throughout the week. It's been a nice reminder that I can write something substantive in short bursts if I put my mind to it.

Halloween in downtown Winterfell was always a big to-do. In the afternoon and early evening, local businesses would hand out candy to any young trick-or-treaters who came by. Much later, the university kids would flood the streets. It was a busy and exhausting night, but Jon let the coffee shop staff have fun with it and usually went along with whatever role they picked for him in the group costume they chose.

This year it was Marvel superheroes. Tormund was Thor, of course. The other full-time baristas Val, Gren, Pyp and Edd were Captain Marvel, Captain America, Spider-man and the Hulk, respectively. Jon had to be Ironman, they all agreed, because he was the owner, because of his facial hair, and because he was “Stark-adjacent.” Sansa happily cast herself as his Pepper Potts, and spent the evening there with a handful of friends and Robb and Jeyne, who came along as Hawkeye and Black Widow in solidarity .

It was almost two in the morning when they finally closed and Jon and Sansa headed back to his place. Despite the late hour and despite the fact he’d been on his feet almost all day, it was still so early in the relationship that every moment alone had to be seized upon. The costumes also made for a fun bit of role play that Sansa enjoyed so much Jon knew they’d be doing it again.They both thought it funny what a difference a few weeks made in their lives. They both already felt like they’d been together all their lives. It was perfect and comfortable and familiar in all the good ways, even though it was all so new.

Fall fell into winter, winter into spring.

In April, for Sansa’s birthday, they adopted two dogs. Jon had meant for it to be only one, but Sansa couldn’t choose and he couldn’t either.

Then it was fall again.

On the trip to the mountains this year, Sansa was properly dressed and Jon had brought each of them a thermos of coffee. They spent the drive up chatting idly about the things at work currently annoying Sansa, about Jon’s plans to sell the shop’s coffee in bags to take home, ground or whole bean, about whether or not hiring Rickon to work part-time on weekends was a good idea. (The number of girls from his school who came while he was working suggested it was.) The dogs, Ghost and Lady, were antsy in the back of the car, but loved being in the woods once they got out.

When they got to the weirwood tree, they laid down together to look up to the sky through the magic of the tree’s canopy, just as they had a year before. Sansa took Jon’s hand again and they quietly made their wishes. Then, Jon took the coffee out. Sansa’s thermos felt light in her hands but she thought nothing of it until she unscrewed the top and saw no steam coming out. Jon, with that smile she still loved so much, turned over the top, which served as a cup, and poured.

The ring fell into the metal cup with a clang.


End file.
